Thirteen Roses
by Applesauce.Flavored.Resisty
Summary: Anti-Cosmo and Anti-Wanda are seperated and assigned different godkids. AC's assinged to the daughter of two wealthy adults, but does money really matter when it comes to making Miura happy? Not when Timmy's around. OC and swearing warning. Updated it.
1. The First Rose: Beginnings

Thirteen Roses

Thirteen Roses

Author's Note: Okay, so I was bored and watched the Fairly Oddlympics. Got obsessed with Fairly OddParents again and decided to write this. I couldn't resist using Anti-Cosmo. I really couldn't. D:

I don't own the Fairly OddParents. That pleasure belongs to Butch Hartman. :3

--

_He gave her thirteen roses and all but one were real, and he told her each rose's purpose. . ._

The First Rose: Beginnings

The sun was shining and birds were singing and suddenly it clouded up and it started raining and Anti-Cosmo thought it really was a beautiful day for plotting.

He didn't mind the rain, obviously; he smiled to himself and leaned back in his armchair in the parlor of his cozy abode. Adjusting his monocle, he watched the heavy rain fall and splatter the windows. He grinned at the thought of the misfortune of those caught in the sudden storm, and snorted in amusement as a rumble of thunder sounded. Only someone truly stupid would go out and purposely get caught out there.

Which reminded him. . .

"Anti-Wanda, dear?"

"I gots the mail for ya, hun."

"Oh good, let's – oh dear."

Anti-Wanda floated in, sopping wet, holding a few equally-as-soaked envelopes. AC sighed and took out his wand, waving it and clearing the water from Anti-Wanda and the mail. "You could have just poofed it into the house, you know." he muttered, shaking his head, though he was smiling nevertheless. The swirly-haired Anti-Fairy thanked him and handed over all but one of the letters.

"This'un is mines." She said simply.

Anti-Cosmo nodded and looked through the mail, most of which were bills or advertisements addressed to the two of them. He paused at the last envelope in the stack. "Hello. . . what's this?" he murmured curiously, picking up a nearby letter opener. He slit the envelope and took out the paper within, brow furrowed as he skimmed through it. Something didn't seem right with this letter; he frowned and looked up from the piece of paper.

"Dear, let me see your letter please. . ."

Anti-Wanda handed him the letter and he skimmed through it as well, before frowning deeply. No, no, something didn't seem right at all. He compared the letters and then looked up, an incredulous expression on his face. "They're separating us?"

"They ain't!" Anti-Wanda gasped.

"They are! Listen: '_From the Fairy World Assignment Offices:_

_Due to a slight lack in the availability of godchild-worthy fairies, you, Anti-Cosmo, have been requested by Jorgen von Strangle to come to the Fairy World Assignment Building tomorrow at noon. There you will be assigned a child at random and will be given as much time as needed to grant any and all wishes they may have. However, on no account does this mean you are to misbehave and wreak havoc like Anti-Fairies are known to do; any consequences in that nature that are caused without your child's wishing will be reported to Jorgen von Strangle and you will be replaced._

_Remember, this is a solo mission and that only one fairy will be placed in charge of your child—that fairy will be you._

_-The Fairy World Assignment Offices._' " he grimaced, tossing the letter aside. "And it says the same for yours! They don't mention anything about us working together in either letter; in fact, they both say the opposite!"

"That ain't right! We's a team, isn't we? They cain't sep'rate us!"

Anti-Cosmo didn't answer; he was staring out the window, brow furrowed in thought.

"Anti-Cossie?"

"I'm fine, my dear; why don't you go on ahead and make yourself a sandwich for lunch? I'll join you in a few minutes. I need to mull things over a bit."

Anti-Wanda nodded and floated off, taking her letter with her.

With a sigh, Anti-Cosmo stood and crossed to the window, looking out as the rain slowed, finally giving up and stopping as sunshine weakly began to filter through the heavy clouds. He looked out at his front garden, his sights sliding over to a rosebush that stood opposite the window, along the low wall that surrounded the garden. He frowned. All the roses on the bush looked damaged from the wind and rain. He sighed and turned away, disappointed. The roses had taken so much time to grow, because they were a rare type. He made as if he were about to leave before doing a double take and looking out the window again. "Hm?"

A single, dark rose—almost black-purple in color—stood among its damaged siblings, peering up at the cloud-filled sky. Its petals were open, dots of rain rolling off of them as the clouds made one final attempt at rain. Only a light drizzle fell, before stopping altogether and giving way for the sun. Anti-Cosmo smiled slightly. The rose seemed almost optimistic about its survival. He turned and left the parlor, off to have lunch with his wife.

The way he floated off down the hall almost seemed optimistic as well.

The next morning, Anti-Cosmo woke up to sunlight hitting him full in the face. He muttered something and rolled over, trying to get back to sleep. When his attempt failed, he climbed out of bed, rubbing his eyes. Mumbling darkly under his breath, he grabbed his usual outfit from the closet before ambling down the hall; apparently he was much too tired to float. He made it to the bathroom without knocking anything over and closed the door behind him, turning the lock and standing in the darkness for a few seconds. Finally, he turned on the light and started the water, pulling off his pajamas lazily. He climbed into the shower and turned the water to cold in order to wake himself up quicker, and started washing.

After his shower, he dried off and got dressed, then made his way to the kitchen for breakfast. He made himself some toast and tea, polishing his monocle as the water for the tea boiled. Once his food and drink were prepared, he sat down and began eating, although he wasn't really paying attention. Anti-Wanda joined him soon afterwards, still in her pajamas, but breakfast was quiet. After the two had finished, Anti-Cosmo cleared the dishes and went out to the garden, subconsciously aware that his path was taking him to his rosebush.

Once he got there, he paused, staring blankly down at the bush, before he blinked and furrowed his brow. He had the impression of just coming out of a trance, but after a second the impression was gone. He yawned and looked down at the roses, all but one of which looked even worse up close. Yesterday's storm obviously caused more damage than he thought—at least, to the roses. He gazed down at the single rose that survived.

"You're a hardy rose. . . how did you manage to survive that?" he wondered aloud, crouching down to get a better look at the flower. It was a little damaged, but healthier than the rest. Upon closer inspection, Anti-Cosmo noticed that the rose barely had any thorns; the ones it _did_ have were small and didn't hurt much when he plucked the rose from the bush and held it gently in his hand. "You don't even have thorns. Well, you do, but they don't seem to be very effective. . . whatever could have made you like that? You're a strange rose, you know."

He smiled and stood, dusting off his pants with his free hand before poofing himself into his study. A spare vase stood empty on a bookshelf filled with manila folders, so he placed the rose in it and materialized a bottle of water. He poured the contents into the vase and tossed the bottle out. With a smile, he placed it on his desk, looked at it for a few seconds, before he left and went to go fetch Anti-Wanda from the living room. They were expected at noon, but he had a strange feeling it would be better to get there early. Perhaps the two would have a better chance of getting a good child if Jorgen saw their punctuality.

Anti-Cosmo rolled his eyes, knowing that it probably wouldn't happen, and floated into the living room just in time to see the ending credits of Paula Poundcake, with Anti-Wanda dancing along.

--

_. . .and in her hands he placed the First Rose, dark like the most velvet of nights, and held up the next flower. . ._

Author's Note: Whoo, okay. The ending was weird, I'll admit, but whatever. It was getting late and I had to end it somehow. I actually wrote out this chapter but the end seemed kinda sudden, so I wanted to round it off nicer than what I had written. D'you think it worked? By the way, the italics are part of the story, not the author's note. It's kinda like a story within a story, and each rose is a chapter. I dunno. I just like having really cool sounding stuff in my stories is all. xD

R&R! Please and thank you


	2. The Second Rose: Seperation

Thirteen Roses

Thirteen Roses

Author's Note: Okay. Second chapter! I got two good reviews and I didn't want to leave my readers hanging, so. . . Here you go! For all of you who are wondering what happened to all the Invader Zim fanfictions I was writing? Well. . . Let's just say hopefully I don't grow out of Invader Zim _too_ much while writing this.

Disclaimer. . . do I need to say it? I really don't own FoP. If I did. . . well. You'd know.

--

The Second Rose: Separation

_The Second Rose was blue and thornless, but had petals full of color. . ._

--

The raven-haired girl glared at Timmy Turner, yellow eyes burning like wildfire. Her throat stung as she held back tears, and she pointed a pale, slender finger at Timmy in accusal. Everyone knew what was coming but no one held her back. "He did it, Mr. Crocker! Timothy turner pushed me into the ant farm and ruined the project you had worked so hard on!"

Her voice was a typical 12-year-old female's voice, although maybe a little high-pitched, and her knees shook as she glared at Timmy, who was glaring back with ferocity in his blue eyes. It almost seemed as though one of them was eventually going to cower under the glare the other was giving, though given the fact that the female had been pushed into an ant farm, Timmy probably didn't stand a chance.

"Turner! A weeks' worth of detention!" Mr. Crocker snapped, stalking from the front of the classroom to slap a detention slip onto the biology binder Timmy was holding. "Starting tomorrow!" he added, and stalked off to grade more papers (grade meaning "to stamp an oversized 'F' upon", in this case).

Timmy gaped after Mr. Crocker. "What?! That is totally not fair! It's just a bunch of stupid ants!" he cried, but no one listened. The bell for the end of school rang and everyone began to pack up. Timmy stormed over to the yellow-eyed girl, who was putting a binder into her bag. She didn't acknowledge his presence at all, and merely hummed a small tune to herself.

"You! This is _all your fault_, Miura!"

"So? You got what you deserved." She regarded him coldly. "I don't care what happens to you so long as the punishment suffices for what you did to me. I don't have the power to repel ants, Timothy. I believe you saw proof of that this afternoon."

Timmy fumed, but said nothing and stormed off. Miura smiled coldly and gathered her things, wishing Mr. Crocker a good evening as she exited the room.

Anti-Cosmo sighed as Jorgen called him in. "Ah! Puny Anti-Fairy! It is your turn to be assigned a godchild. Come in!" the overly-buff fairy snapped, gesturing to a chair in front of a large TV screen within the room. Anti-Cosmo made his way to the chair and sat down, an eyebrow raised as he surveyed the screen. Grudgingly, he accepted the fact that he was a bit impressed with the screen, and was curious as to what it was for.

"Before you are assigned a godchild, you will first be asked some questions." a short fairy with pointy ears stepped forward, poofing a chair into existence. He sat down in front of Anti-Cosmo and looked at the clipboard he held in one hand. His nametag read 'Binky.'

"Are you prepared to answer these questions?"

"Even though I wasn't given a warning about questions, I suppose—"

"Good, first question! Will you be keeping your godchild safe from harm?"

"Isn't that what I'm _supposed_ to do?"

"Are there any wishes you won't grant for your godchild?"

"Only the ones I'm not supposed to grant, obviously."

Binky wrote a few things down. "Good, good. . . what did you have for breakfast this morning?"

"Tea and toast—wait, what does that—"

"Good. And how does that make you feel? Angry? Moody? Revengeful?"

"I like tea." Anti-Cosmo replied a little defensively, a small frown on his face.

"Okay, well, that's all the questions I have. Mr. Jorgen, sir, you can assign him his godchild. . . now." Binky said, inserting the paper into a machine. The machine made a small 'ding'-ing noise a second or so after Binky had said "now," and images of twenty different possible godchildren appeared on the screen. Jorgen looked them over before pointing to a black-haired female with her head in her hands. The room or area she was in seemed dark. "Her! Let us see her misery!" Jorgen announced, resisting the urge to grin (misery was fun to him).

A nearby fairy pushed a button and the image of the girl was enlarged. She appeared to be in a small room, maybe a closet, and it was quite for a second before a hissed conversation from the back of the room was heard, and somebody un-muted the video feed. Over-amplified sounds of sniffling filled the air. Anti-Cosmo arched an eyebrow. Suddenly, distant laughing could be heard and the girl promptly stopped sniffling, lifting her head and revealing a tear-streaked face. Her golden-yellow eyes narrowed.

"Yeah, I took a page outta Miura's book and gave her a little punishment of my own."

Anti-Cosmo recognized that voice, as did Miura, and both frowned and muttered, "Timothy." However, Miura obviously hated Timmy more at the moment, for as the voices paused outside the door to the room, she sat up on her knees and pounded on the door furiously. "Timothy Turner, if you don't let me out of this closet right now, your ass is toast when someone else lets me out!" she snarled.

One of the voices outside the room hesitated as a new voice was heard, louder and feminine. The door suddenly opened and light swept into the room, which turned out to be a janitors' closet. Miura's savior was none other than Trixie Tang. In the background, Timmy was cowering behind Chester, who squealed in fright at the look on Miura's face and ran off. Timmy blinked and muttered, "Uh oh."

"Miura, are you—"

"Okay? Once I kill Timothy I think I will be." Miura answered, but Trixie held Miura back as she attempted to slap Timmy.

"No, no, leave him. He doesn't deserve your attention, even if what he did to you was horrible. Come on. I'll walk home with you, if you want." Trixie picked up Miura's bag and tugged on the girl's arm. Reluctantly, Miura followed, glaring at Timmy. As the two disappeared around the corner of the hall, Timmy let out a relieved sigh, and the screen went blank. Jorgen looked down at Anti-Cosmo, grinning.

"Puny fairy!"

"Anti-Fairy." AC corrected.

"Anti-Fairy! Whatever! Anyhow, that is your godchild! If you have any problems, bring it up to someone who cares. I need to go get my lunch." Jorgen walked off, muttering something about cold chicken nuggets. He popped his head back in to the room and added, "You have ten minutes to get ready!"

Anti-Cosmo got up and left the room, saying a quick goodbye to Anti-Wanda (she was to be assigned next) before leaving the Assignment Building and poofing himself home. He gathered up some of his more prized possessions, including the rose on the desk in his study, and sighed heavily.

If his new godchild's life involved Timmy Turner, he was sure that it would be a long while before he would be back home for good.

--

_. . .and he held its stem between his fingers and as he blew upon it, it shattered into paper-like fragments that floated like magic in the breeze. . ._

--

Author's Note: Yay, the end of the second chapter! I wrote most of this at a friend's house, so the question-and-answer thing was mostly her idea. Well, at least, the random parts were. xD I have part of Chapter Three written out, but I'm a bit stuck so it might be a little while before it comes out. Whoever can guess where I got the shattering rose thing from gets a digital cookie! Here's a hint: It's from a movie that involves the young actress Stephanie Leonidas. The shattered rose wasn't exactly a rose in this movie, but it might as well have been. And yes, the flower in this movie was actually made from paper.

R&R, thanks!


	3. The Third Rose: First Impressions

Thirteen Roses

Thirteen Roses

Author's Note: Yaaay, chapter three! Finally, right? Yeah. Well, anyways, AC finally meets Miura here, but I won't say too much. Chapter four is on its way, as well! Enjoy!

And, like always, I don't own FoP. . .

--

The Third Rose: First Impressions

_The Third Rose was a rosy tan, its thorns large and its petals delicate. The female looked down upon it with disinterest as its story was told. . ._

Anti-Cosmo didn't like being forcibly poofed _anywhere_, but when he suddenly found himself hovering behind a tree on Earth, he realized (a little belatedly) that his ten minutes had obviously ended. Turning himself into a cat, he reluctantly trotted out from behind the tree to wait for Miura, as he assumed Jorgen knew that the female traveled this way to and from school. Soon enough, Miura came around the street corner, thankfully without Trixie, so Anti-Cosmo forced a friendly-sounding meow out of his mouth and gave her the cutest look he could bear to muster, padding over to her in a very cat-like manner. Miura instantly fell for it, hook, line, and sinker.

"Aw, hello there, kitty! You're cute; where did you come from?" She lifted him up, completely missing his odd blue coloring, and scratched him behind the ears. "Wanna come home with me?"

Another forced, friendly meow.

"Hee hee, good!" she appeared excited; from what Anti-Cosmo had read and seen about her, she hadn't very many friends, so company like this, he surmised, was obviously welcome. He perked up as she spoke again, "Well then, let's go home! Hmm. . . What's your name, anyways?" She looked him over, smiling at the monocle-like marking on his face.

"How about. . . Monocle?"

AC shook his head, ears twitching in annoyance, and the tags on his navy collar jingled. Miura looked at them and raised an eyebrow.

"Anti-Cosmo? Who would name a cat that?"

Said Anti-Fairy-turned-cat held back an indignant hiss and instead gave her a look filled with contempt, bottle-green eyes narrowed slightly. Miura looked down at him and blinked. "Oh, well, it suits you! Anti-Cosmo it is!" she said quickly, trying a friendly smile.

Anti-Cosmo mewed in approval, tail moving slowly in a content fashion. He had to hold back the urge to grin, fearing that if a Cheshire-cat smile slipped on to his face, his to-be godchild might leave him then and there.

--

It was obvious, as Miura walked up the sidewalk to the front door of her home, that her parents were very, very wealthy. Their two-story house was quite large, and though Jorgen had told Anti-Cosmo about the five bedrooms, three and a half baths, three walk-in closets, a basement, an attic, the exquisite foyer and dining room, the Anti-Fairy still wasn't prepared for the moment they walked into the entryway of the home. He meowed in surprise, prompting Miura to look down at him curiously.

"What is it?"

Anti-Cosmo just looked up at her and then squirmed a little. Miura put him down and he sat obediently at her heels, looking around. He caught his reflection in Miura's highly polished Mary-Janes and blinked a few times. He put the 'blue' in Russian Blue, and hopefully Miura had enough wit to let her parents know that was the breed of cat he was.

Speaking of which. . . why hadn't Miura's parents come to greet her?

Anti-Cosmo looked up at Miura, finding the female watching him carefully. He meowed, and she blinked, as if coming out of a stupor. She glanced around and then beckoned for him to follow her, heading to an intricately designed spiral staircase in the middle of the foyer.

"Come on; we'd better let mum and dad know about you. . ." she said in a low voice as they walked down a hallway, their footfalls muffled by the plush carpet. "They won't mind that I have a pet; I just need to let them know I _have_ one. They'll do anything to keep me out of their hair." Her tone of voice was bitter, although there was a small smile on her face that Anti-Cosmo couldn't help thinking was more of a grimace.

He followed her down the hall to one of the larger rooms in the house, which turned out to be her father's study. She knocked on the doorframe before entering, lifting Anti-Cosmo up. "Dad? I found a cat and he's really tame, so I decided I might as well let you know that--"

"Quiet; I'm trying to make sure these taxes were done correctly." he replied, cutting her off in mid-sentence.

Miura bowed her head. "I apologize. I'll consult mum instead."

Her father said nothing as his daughter turned on her heel and walked off. The only trace of her being there was the swish of her simple black dress as she turned. Walking down the hall with Anti-Cosmo in her arms, the black-haired female sighed and fondly patted his head. "Well, dad didn't seem too friendly today. Hopefully mum is." she noted aloud, coming to the end of the hallway and knocking on a dark, cherry wood door (this was her mother's clothes designing studio, which she had told Anti-Cosmo absently as they made their way down the hall). "Mum?"

A few seconds later the door opened and a tall woman with blonde hair peered out, blue eyes squinting through a pair of small glasses. A fake smile was suddenly plastered onto the woman's face upon realizing it was her daughter, and she held out her arms for a hug. "Darling! Home from school? How was it? Who's this?" She indicated the cat after realizing she had only received a one-armed hug instead of the usual (if not unenthusiastic) two-armed hug she normally got.

"This is Anti-Cosmo, mum. He's my new pet cat and I thought I'd let you know he was around so you don't end up kicking him out." Miura replied quickly, giving her mother a small smile. Her mother nodded and patted her daughter on the head absently with one hand, which had long, bright pink nails, and beamed.

"Oh, well that's wonderful, honey!" She seemed more enthused that her daughter would be distracted, instead of genuinely happy. She tousled her daughter's hair gently, "Why don't you go make him a comfortable bed in your room?"

Anti-Cosmo had a feeling that her request was more of a demand than a suggestion, and Miura must have sensed it too, because she nodded and waved goodbye, turning around and heading back up the hallway. They passed a set of double-doors, which Miura told him housed her parents' bedroom. They came to the spiral staircase but Miura continued to a different hall, stopping in the middle of the hallway and opening the second of three doors in the corridor. "And this is my bedroom."

For the daughter of a wealthy family, the room was quite plain, although Anti-Cosmo had a feeling that Miura didn't mind, because despite the lack of exquisite everything he was expecting, the girl had obviously made it her home. Posters of fashion designers and famous singers lined the walls, and glow-in-the-dark plastic stars were stuck up on the ceiling. She had a four-poster double bed, with deep violet covers, and two large, puffy white pillows leaned against the maple wood headboard. The walls were painted indigo, with magenta swirls and white specks, which he realized must symbolize outer space or something of the sort. The carpet was thick and black, and a rug lay in front of a maple dresser, in the shape of a large yellow star.

She set Anti-Cosmo down on the ground and walked over to her bed, placing her backpack on top of it before flopping, face-down, onto the covers, letting out a very disgruntled scream. She shook her head and mumbled something into the covers and then stood up straight, wordlessly walking to her closet and closing the door behind her. From beneath the door, Anti-Cosmo saw the light flick on, and heard some shuffling around. A few minutes later Miura came out with a pair of black boys' shorts on, and a plain lime green t-shirt. She grabbed a hair tie from the dresser and put her hair up into a ponytail, then sat on her bed and patted the covers, motioning for Anti-Cosmo to join her.

"C'mon, AC."

Anti-Cosmo obeyed and hopped up on the bed. He tilted his head to the side, looking at Miura curiously. Her golden-yellow eyes seemed a bit blank, and then suddenly she let out a shuddering breath and fell back onto her pillows, a small wail coming out of her mouth.

"Ooh, I hate having parents like the ones I have!" she said suddenly, her arms spread out beside her. "They'll do anything to keep me out of their hair, anything at all! Once they almost sent me to a boarding school, but I put up such a fit about it that they decided against it, thinking I'd be unruly if I went there. They were afraid that I'd soil the family name; seeing as I'm the only child they have, it's understandable, because they could just disown me or something after that and still have another kid to send off to make the family seem so perfect."

She shook her head and let out a very disgruntled sigh. "Sometimes I wish that they could see what life was like on _my side_ of the spectrum."

Anti-Cosmo grinned, finding the perfect cue to show his true form to his new godchild.

"Well, you can, my dear," he said, wand appearing from nowhere as he raised it and turned back into his Anti-Fairy self. "All you need is a fairy godparent. Lucky for you, that won't be too hard to come by!"

Miura gaped. "What. . . but you're a cat. . ?"

Anti-Cosmo chuckled. "No, my dear; that was merely a disguise! As you know, my name is Anti-Cosmo. I'm your new fairy godparent—or should I say, Anti-Fairy godparent."

"Why Anti-Fairy?"

"The fairies that Fairy World had weren't quite qualified to have godchildren just yet."

"I see. So what, are you like, fairy negatives?" Miura inquired, head tilted to the side as she looked over her new godparent.

"Clever girl." Anti-Cosmo replied approvingly. "We are. Usually we cause bad luck, but in this new case, our black magic is able to help the godchild we are given. And you seem to need it. I understand that a certain Timothy Turner is in your class?"

"Oh, don't even remind me." Miura rolled her eyes. "That kid is really, really annoying."

"I've met him before, and his Fairy Godparents."

Miura gaped again. "No way, Turner's got godparents, too?!"

"Indeed, but they are normal fairies. And since he doesn't know about you having a new godparent. . . how about we wreak a little havoc tomorrow? It's a Saturday, so we won't have to worry about anyone at school knowing."

The idea was tempting to Miura and she knew she couldn't disapprove. "Sure. I can always make room for havoc on my schedule."

--

_. . .and though the girl thought the flower was plain at first, she noticed how it changed to something of beauty as its story progressed, and she took it lovingly from the male and eagerly took in its scent._

--

Author's Note: Finally! The wait for this must have taken forever, huh? Sorry for the wait! I got kind of busy with life and had trouble finding a way to progress this and then, eventually, to end it. . . But now that I'm done with this chapter I have to find out what to do for chapter four! If you have any ideas, let me know! I'd love to hear them—message me on Gaia or DeviantART; my e-mail isn't being very nice to me, unfortunately. . . or just tell me in a review! All ideas will be considered.

By the way, the trivia thing from last chapter is still out there for whoever wants to guess! Here's another hint: The movie also starred Jason Barry, who played a 'Very Important Man' that claimed he was the manager, business associate, and close personal friend of the main character in the movie, played by Stephanie Leonidas.

Happy guessing, and don't forget to R&R!


	4. The Fourth Rose: Revenge

Thirteen Roses

Thirteen Roses

Author's Note: Finally! Chapter Four, man! I bet you're all like, "Why'd it take so long?" Well, I was having some issues with it. . . I kept running myself into these corners and I had to keep going back and editing things. However, I finally thought of an ingenious and random revenge plot for Miura to initiate.

Oh. There's a random part in here, near the beginning, where I refer to them starting to be a bit sing-songish. . . I had just watched the _School's Out! The Musical_ movie/episode thing and I was all in the mood for musical stuff.

I was even making up songs that could be in a musical of this while showering. It was a bit scary.

But, without further ado, here it comes! Chapter four!

I still don't on FoP, by the way. Butch Hartman does.

--

The Fourth Rose: Revenge

_The Fourth Rose was bloody red with a menacing aura. . ._

--

Miura woke at 9 AM the next morning and, for a moment, yesterday's extremely odd events went forgotten—until she saw the navy blue cat laying on its back at the foot of her bed. She smiled and reached over to rub his stomach, but before she could touch him with even a _fingertip_, Anti-Cosmo opened one eye and batted Miura's hand away with his front paws. Miura pulled her hand away and blinked, a bit startled.

"My dear girl, please, _don't_ pet my stomach." he gave her a somewhat stern look.

"Why can't I?" Miura asked instantly.

Anti-Cosmo blinked, taken aback. "Because. . . I don't like it?" he tried.

"Oh. Okay then. I won't." Miura smiled, golden eyes glittering with understanding. Anti-Cosmo was surprised she had taken the reprimanding so well, but mentally shrugged it off and turned into his normal Anti-Fairy form. He dusted himself off and materialized a cup of tea, which he sipped happily.

Miura watched him for a moment, then blinked and climbed out of bed. She fixed the covers messily and grabbed some clothes before they were suddenly poofed out of her hands. "Eh?!"

"My dear Miura, do you _really_ want to wear _these_ clothes?" Anti-Cosmo gestured to the baggy white tee and almost-two-sizes-too-big pair of jeans Miura had picked out, frowning.

Miura looked at Anti-Cosmo, the clothes, and back, before nodding. "Yes. . ?" she said cautiously.

Anti-Cosmo slapped his forehead.

"No," he muttered, then louder: "Nooo." he droned, rolling his eyes. Miura raised an eyebrow, prompting a frown from her godparent. "So you really don't know?

"I don't know what?"

They seemed to be getting a bit sing-song now, rather subconsciously.

'On a day great for revenge, there is nothing better to wear than. . ?"

"Than baggy jeans and baggy tees?"

"Not unless you want to attract a herd of fleas, no. . . I'm thinking _evil shorts_." He grinned and waved his wand, and a pair of knee-length black shorts appeared, replacing Miura's baggy pajama bottoms.

"They don't seem very evil to me. . ." Miura muttered.

Another wave of Anti-Cosmo's wand, and a skull patch appeared on the left back pocket. "How about now, my dear?"

"They seem evil enough and they look quite tough. Now I suppose, Timothy has something to fear!" She attempted an evil laugh.

"How about a top?"

"Nothing that flops."

"Of course not; you deserve the best!" Anti-Cosmo poofed up a black shirt with a neon pink, heart-shaped skull. "How about this?"

"Not quite. I'd rather be put to rest. . . or forced into a fluffy pink dress. In all honesty, my dear AC, it's not quite as evil as I would expect." She waved a hand dismissively at the floating shirt.

Anti-Cosmo poofed up a black shirt with an orange face on it. The face was grinning, showing its fangs. One of its eyes was a large 'X' while the other was a purple heart. "Dear Miura, I swear, your taste in evil fashion appears quite strict!"

"AC, I beg that you don't melt from the stress of it. The shirt that you picked, though, I think I'm finding I like. . ."

"Well then, why don't you try it on?" Anti-Cosmo smiled and waved his wand, and Miura was dressed. She looked at her outfit, then at Anti-Cosmo, and started chuckling, clearly amused by something. Anti-Cosmo furrowed his brow.

"What _are_ you laughing at?"

"We were just singing, kind of."

"So?"

"You really aren't the type of person I could imagine singing." she said bluntly, pulling on her socks and shoes.

Anti-Cosmo blinked. "Oh. I suppose that's true, hm? I really don't give off a singing vibe. . ."

Miura nodded. "Yeah. . . but now we go and get that oh-so-sweet revenge on Timothy." she grinned wickedly, gold eyes glittering malevolently. She marched out of her room and Anti-Cosmo followed, now in his cat form, and the two made their way to the stairs.

"What about breakfast?"

Miura looked down at him, about to climb onto the banister. "What about it?"

"Well, aren't we going to eat?"

"Um. . . usually I don't eat breakfast until ten, because mum and dad are downstairs eating, but. . . I guess we can eat now." she was sitting on the banister, facing the top of the stairs, and she grinned suddenly and pushed herself down the spiral banister. "Come on, AC!"

Anti-Cosmo sighed and followed, preferring to use the stairs rather than slide down the banister. Miura was waiting at the bottom, and she lifted him from the bottom step and carried him to the kitchen, muttering about him taking too long. Anti-Cosmo didn't particularly like being held quite like he was, somewhat pressed up against Miura's chest, but he had to admit that it was rather nice, in a way. Besides, he was there to make Miura happy, and if it meant being held, then he would deal with it.

They arrived in the kitchen. Thankfully, Miura's parents either weren't up or had already eaten, so the two had the kitchen to themselves. Miura made them buttered toast with jam, as well as some hot cocoa (which Anti-Cosmo politely refused, having just drank some tea). Miura ate, alternating between eating quickly and eating slowly. She wanted to hurry and serve up some revenge, but was reprimanded by Anti-Cosmo every time she started to rush.

Finally, breakfast was done. Miura did the dishes and looked at Anti-Cosmo with a grin. "Revenge time?"

Her godparent smirked. "Yes. Revenge time."

--

Timmy was having a lovely morning, which was ruined the moment he accidentally broke a hand mirror, which instantly freaked out his godparents (minus Poof, who was asleep).

"Timmy, that's seven years of bad luck!" Wanda cried, biting her lip.

"But it's not even Friday the Thirteenth! It doesn't matter, right?" Timmy said, cleaning up the shards of mirror and throwing them into the trash can next to his desk. He sat down on his bed.

Cosmo rolled his eyes. "_Riiight._ That's what they _all_ say."

And, as if to prove Timmy wrong, a rumbling noise was heard and a giant anthill popped up in the middle of his room. Four giant ants emerged from the anthill, followed by thousands upon thousands of smaller ones. Timmy swallowed nervously. "They're just ants, right? Nothing bad. . ."

That's when the ants bared their overly-large fangs and charged.

Prompted by Timmy's distressed wail, Miura and Anti-Cosmo appeared in his room, Miura sitting on the windowsill and Anti-Cosmo floating next to her. They were both wearing identical smirks.

"Greetings, Timothy." Anti-Cosmo began.

"Karma's a bitch, isn't it?" Miura finished with a giggle.

Timmy glowered, fending off the giant ants with a ruler. Cosmo and Wanda were (unsuccessfully) trying to poof away the smaller ants. They looked up and frowned, but it took all three a verbal cue to actually register that Anti-Cosmo was present.

"I see you three are still the same ignorant morons I know and loathe. . ."

"Anti-Cosmo?!" Wanda gasped.

"Stay away from my wife!" Cosmo growled promptly, narrowing his eyes.

"Why are you with Miura?" Timmy asked, pointing out the question that the Anti-Fairy and his godchild expected him to already know the answer to.

Miura and Anti-Cosmo sighed. "Would you like to hazard a guess, Timothy?" they asked in unison.

Timmy's eyes widened. "No way. . . You're Anti-Cosmo's _godkid_?!" he cried, batting away an ant as he looked at Miura in shock.

Miura flashed him a brilliant, smug smile and laughed. "Of course. How else would he be here, and how would I have managed to poof up a horde of ants? Which reminds me. . . good luck with them, Timothy. I think you'll need it. They'll tire in about five hours, but are pretty resistant to magic. See you Monday." She waved, and Anti-Cosmo poofed the two away.

Timmy sighed and began fending off the ants once more. Wanda and Cosmo bit their lips, and turned into a sword and shield, respectively.

"This isn't fair!" Timmy whined. "How am I gonna survive school knowing that Miura's got Anti-Cosmo on her side?"

"Aww, cheer up, sport!" Wanda said gently.

"Yeah!" Cosmo put in. "There's two of us and Poof, after all! She's only got Anti-Cosmo." He nodded wisely.

Timmy and Wanda looked at Cosmo, who looked back at them, suddenly worried.

"What? What did I do?"

"I can't believe I'm saying this but you're right, Cosmo! I shouldn't worry. I have three fairies and Miura's only got one! Which means I have more magic!"

"That may be true, Timmy, but Poof is just a baby and Cosmo is still, well, an idiot." Wanda said. "Besides, Anti-Cosmo is an Anti-Fairy, and the most diabolical at that."

Timmy and Cosmo glared.

"What?"

--

_. . .hesitantly, the female took the Rose, fearing its aura but secretly loving it as well. . ._

--

Author's Note: There was a question in Lady Ayame's review for chapter three about pairings in this story: Miura and Timmy or Miura and AC. To answer that question: Well, I'm not sure, actually. I think that around maybe chapter five or six, I'll leave it up to the readers to decide the pairing. I wasn't quite planning for this to be a romance, really, since Miura kinda hates Timmy's guts a millionfold and AC's got Anti-Wanda. . . But I want to leave it up to you guys, because I think you should have a choice in the matter.

I'm open to your suggestions and ideas, so if you have any, then let me know!

Personally, though, I kinda lean more towards Miura and Timmy, just because of how odd it would be to see them together. They hate each other's guts, but I think Miura hates Timmy more. Which is why she calls him Timothy instead of Timmy. It gets on his nerves, but he doesn't show it.


End file.
